


Sleepless

by Rosetylars



Category: Cricket RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetylars/pseuds/Rosetylars
Summary: Sometimes, Steve just can't sleep.
Relationships: Tim Paine/Steve Smith
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	Sleepless

Steve had always hated bedtime. He felt that it was the worst part of the day. He associated it with so many feelings of frustration or even anger at himself, when he couldn’t just close his eyes and go to sleep like a lot of people could.

Tim knew, from the very beginning of their relationship, over three years earlier, that Steve had trouble sleeping. It didn’t bother Tim as much as it upset him - he wanted Steve to be happy, and bedtime did _not_ make him happy.

But when the worst nights came, Tim would always be there.

*

One Friday night, Tim and Steve stayed out late with Pat, Mitch, Josh and Starcy. By the time they were home, it was 2am, and they always wanted to have something to eat when they got home. Tim reheated some leftovers from dinner, and they ate at their kitchen bench, tired but still tipsy and happy.

Steve insisted on a shower, so Tim came with him, pressing sleepy kisses to Steve’s skin under the spray.

By the time they were in bed, it was almost three.

*

Steve could never manage a sleep in after a night of drinking, so he ended up getting out of bed before eight. Tim was still deeply asleep, bless him, so Steve left him with a feather light kiss to the forehead, pulling the blankets up around his fiancé and making sure the curtains were completely closed before he left the bedroom.

Steve felt a little bit sick as he always did after a big night - a lack of sleep mixed with the after effects of several drinks. He slightly regretted starting the evening with whiskey, then moving onto beer, and then vodka... but they’d all had a fun night, and he remembered it all, which was a marker of a good evening.

He decided to wait for Tim to get up before he worried about breakfast, instead heading to the kitchen. There were a few dishes in the sink, so he tidied those, then set about a deep clean of the kitchen. When he or both of them were home for an extended period, Steve liked to properly clean the basins, taps, stovetop and bench at least once a fortnight.

He filled in three quarters of an hour cleaning and sterilising the kitchen before Tim texted, to let Steve know he was awake.

Steve washed his hands, then gathered a glass of iced water and two Panadol for Tim.

When he headed into the bedroom, he was almost knocked over by the adorable sight - Tim was curled up in a mountain of crinkled sheets and blankets, and all Steve could see was his sleepy face and his messy hair.

“G’morning, beautiful,” Tim rasped, voice croaky from sleep and after a night of speaking over loud music at the bar.

Steve melted at the words, perching on the edge of the mattress beside Tim, handing him the water and tablets when he sat up.

“How do you feel?” Steve asked, once Tim handed back the water with a grateful smile.

“With my hands,” Tim replied automatically.

Steve giggled, as he always did.

“Not as bad as I expected to,” Tim replied honestly. “But my ankles hurt, for some reason?”

Steve couldn’t hold back another chuckle. “That’d be because of all the dancing, _old man,_ ” he teased.

Tim groaned, scrunching up his nose. “So much for Patty _I don’t dance_ Cummins-Marsh. He was a bad influence.”

Steve grinned. “That was such bullshit. He loves to dance. Though, making out with Mitch on the dance floor doesn’t exactly count as dancing.”

Tim laughed, reaching up to run a hand back through Steve’s hair. “In which case, you and I didn’t dance much, either,” Tim teased.

“I didn’t make out with Mitch,” Steve returned playfully.

Tim laughed once more. “Thank goodness for that.”

They shared a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“Do you want to shower, or eat first?” Steve asked gently.

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “Let’s eat. What do you feel like?”

Steve had been thinking about that very question the whole time he had been cleaning the kitchen, and he’d had his heart set on one thing.

“Bacon and eggs?” Steve asked hopefully.

Tim grinned, nodding. “Sounds perfect.”

*

Steve got through the day okay - he was used to running on very little sleep, and he was able to ignore the slight nausea in his stomach for most of the day.

Tim, though he would _never_ admit it, could no longer handle hangovers as well as he had been able to fifteen years ago. Despite his extra hour of sleep, he faded in the afternoon.

“I think I’m gonna have a nap, bub,” Tim said, around 3pm. “Want to come cuddle in bed?”

Steve was torn. He loved the idea of a cuddle with Tim, but he was _not_ a napper. He struggled falling asleep at night, let alone during the day.

He shook his head. “Wouldn’t be able to sleep,” he replied.

Tim nodded with understanding, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Wake me if you get bored or lonely?”

Steve nodded, touched by the offer, even if he’d never take Tim up on it. “Hope you sleep well, Timmy,” Steve said, giving him a kiss.

Tim smiled, heading to the bedroom with a yawn.

Steve looked at his watch - he had reached his activity and exercise targets after midnight, dancing, but he decided to spend a bit of time on some yoga and mobility to get active.

That only chewed up half an hour, so after that, he headed into the bedroom. Tim had left the door cracked open, welcoming Steve in, if he wanted, as always.

Tim was fast asleep, curled up, facing away from Steve’s side of the bed. Steve perched on the bed beside him, turning his lamp on its dimmest setting, and cracked open the book he had on the go, happily reading with Tim’s soft breaths beside him.

Tim woke up after about an hour asleep, turning over and giving Steve a sleepy smile.

“You’re here,” Tim said warmly.

“I’m here,” Steve agreed, settling the book on his chest. “You’re cute when you’re asleep.”

“Only when I’m asleep?” Tim pouted.

Steve rolled his eyes at the obvious fish for compliments. “Always, Timmy,” he relented. “Good sleep?”

Tim nodded, opening his arms and encouraging Steve to cuddle. Steve bookmarked his page and put the book on his side table, melting into Tim’s arms.

Tim was warm and smelt like home, and Steve was so comfortable that he relaxed down against Tim’s chest, closing his eyes briefly.

Tim was lightly massaging Steve’s scalp, and Steve was in heaven. He even felt a bit sleepy.

“Think I’ll sleep well tonight,” Steve said, comfortable in Tim’s arms.

*

Famous last words.

When he and Tim headed to bed that night, Steve genuinely felt tired. They got into bed and started watching one of their shows on the TV in their bedroom, but Tim’s eyed kept drooping shut, and Steve knew he’d be confused about the plot if they left it running.

Steve shut off the TV, and that made Tim stir.

“I wasn’t asleep,” Tim insisted.

“Mhm. You were just watching with your eyes shut,” Steve deadpanned.

Tim chuckled, pulling Steve down to kiss him lightly. “You’re cheeky, Steven Peter.”

Steve melted, kissing Tim more deeply. They had both brushed their teeth before they got into bed, so Tim was ready to sleep.

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep, bub?” Tim asked gently.

Steve nodded, yawning. He curled up against Tim’s side once Tim turned his lamp off, grateful that his eyes were already burning with exhaustion, thinking it was going to be a quick and easy fall asleep...

But he was so wrong.

Tim was out like a light within a few minutes, his soft snores the only noise in the room. He normally wouldn’t sleep until he knew Steve could, but Steve had been so sure he would sleep well that night that Tim hadn’t thought anything of it.

Steve felt exhausted. His muscles were fatigued from a big gym session the previous day, as well as hours spent on the dance floor, late into the previous evening. He knew that a big sleep was just what he needed... which is why he grew increasingly frustrated, the longer he laid in bed, wide awake.

At about midnight, he decided he was thinking too much about it. He tried to distract himself by trying to count the freckles on Tim’s arm, but the lack of light in the room made that too hard.

He moved on to other mind games - he tried to remember every date he and Tim had been on, in order, over the years, but he quickly grew frustrated when his mind couldn’t focus - he was way too exhausted.

But he just couldn’t sleep. He shifted to his side of the bed, which was cold from how little time he spent on it, and reached for his phone and earbuds, turning the brightness down so he didn’t disturb Tim.

Tim must have subconsciously noticed when Steve moved away - he shifted in his sleep, curling his arms tightly into his chest as if Steve were there.

Steve melted at the action, but he was starting to panic about not sleeping, as the hours started to get away from him. He scrolled around on his phone for a while, trying to tire himself out, but nothing worked. He just felt hollow.

He listened to some rain soundtracks, but that just made him need to go to the toilet. He ended up caving at around 1am, and headed to the ensuite.

Tim must have heard him shut the ensuite door when he returned, because he stirred.

“Y’alright, baby?” Tim mumbled, still half asleep.

“All good,” Steve lied. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

The reassuring words were enough for Tim - he pulled the sheets up around himself and fell asleep again.

Despite the warm, loving body in the bed beside him, Steve felt even more alone.

He curled back up against Tim, hoping his presence and warmth would help his body wind down and go to sleep, but it was no use. He was too far overtired.

Steve closed his eyes and just listened to the sound of Tim’s heart. That normally worked.

But tonight wasn’t a normal night. More minutes, maybe hours, ticked by, and Steve was no closer to falling asleep.

He made the mistake of leaving the comfort of Tim’s arms, so that he could shift to his side of the bed and check his phone for the time. By now, it was 2:30am, and after barely any sleep the previous night, Steve began to panic.

He knew how important sleep was for health and wellness, and he was so angry with himself for not being able to just _go to sleep_. He thought about all everything he hoped to get done around the house the following day, and envisioned himself spending another entire day feeling nauseous from lack of sleep, and he just cracked.

“Timmy,” he said, voice breaking.

Tim woke up straight away. He looked over at Steve, making sure he’d actually heard something, and didn’t dream it.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked, voice still sleepy.

Steve shook his head, where it rested on his own pillow - and that was the first sign to Tim that something was seriously wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve whispered, upset. “I just can’t sleep.”

Tim perched up on his elbows, shifting closer to the middle of the bed.

“Hey,” Tim said softly, “don’t say sorry. Is something on your mind?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m so exhausted but I just can’t sleep, and I’m really angry with myself about it,” he admitted.

Tim nodded, reaching out to run a hand through Steve’s hair. He was about to say something, but Steve continued.

“And now I’m really hungry,” Steve admitted, frustrated with himself.

Tim chuckled softly, at that. “Come on, then. Let’s have something to eat,” he said gently.

Steve pulled a face. “No, Timmy, I don’t want to keep you up-“

Tim hushed Steve gently, reaching for his hand, and pulling it to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Come on.”

They headed to the kitchen - the house had cooled down since they had first tried to head to bed, so Tim flicked the heater on as he passed the thermostat. Steve had gone straight to the kitchen, so Tim went back to the bedroom for a jumper for each of them, knowing Steve would be freezing.

When he got to the kitchen, the sight shattered his heart.

Steve was sitting on a barstool, elbows leaning on the kitchen island, hands over his eyes, shoulders shaking as his body racked with sobs.

“Steve,” Tim whispered painfully. “Darling.”

Steve was too beside himself to even respond. Tim stood beside Steve and held his back, wishing he could make things better.

It felt like they were there for hours, and Tim stood with Steve until his shaking stopped.

“I’m so sorry, Timmy,” Steve choked out, still hunched over the kitchen island.

Tim frowned. “You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. Can I get you something to eat?”

“Because I _can’t sleep_ ,” Steve groaned, trying to sit up, wiping in vain at his face. His eyes were puffy with tears, and he looked broken. “It’s okay. I’ll get out some nut butter or something.”

Tim pressed a kiss to Steve’s temple, heading to the pantry before Steve could even react. He got out their open jar of nut butter and some breadsticks, putting them down in front of Steve softly.

Steve sniffed. “I normally have it with celery or carrot to make it a bit more nutritious,” he mumbled.

Tim shook his head, placing his hand on Steve’s back again, comforting him.

“Sweetheart, you’re in a bad way. There’s nothing wrong with a few breadsticks,” Tim said gently.

Steve nodded, accepting the snack. Tim sat down beside him, taking Steve’s left hand between his own. He decided to entertain Steve with a story from earlier in the week, that Tim’s mum had told him about his dad - it was long winded, and definitely greatly embellished, but by the end, Steve was laughing so hard he nearly choked on his breadstick.

Tim was grateful to see the light slowly return to Steve’s eyes, and he ran a hand back through his hair.

“Would you like some water?” Tim asked gently.

“Yes, please,” Steve replied.

Tim got up to get some ice and water, and Steve drank it all in one go.

To Tim, Steve seemed less panicked than he had been fifteen minutes earlier, and that was a relief.

“Let’s go back to bed,” Steve suggested. “I’ll just brush my teeth again.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to stay up if you want,” Tim offered.

Steve shook his head. “I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“Baby, I don’t care about that,” Tim assured. “We’ve got nothing we have to do tomorrow.”

"What about the washing, and more cleaning and-"

"None of that is urgent. We won't die if we put the washing off for a day," Tim reasoned gently.

Steve seemed to relax a little more, at that.

They headed back to the bedroom, and Tim decided to pull the power out to the clock on his bedside table - it wouldn’t help Steve at all to dwell on the time, and at this point, the time really didn’t even matter.

When Steve was finished in the bathroom, Tim got into bed and opened his arms, encouraging Steve to curl up by his side, his head on Tim’s chest. Tim reached for Steve’s hand, and interlaced their fingers.

“I’m so sorry about all this, Timmy,” Steve mumbled, playing with Tim’s fingers.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. It’s not your fault you can’t sleep,” Tim replied.

Steve nodded slightly, as if trying to reassure himself that Tim’s words were true.

“Thank you for getting up with me, though,” Steve continued, trying not to apologise again.

Tim used his spare hand to rub Steve’s back gently. “Any time, bub. In sickness and in health, right?”

Steve couldn’t help a small smile in response. “But you didn’t sign up for a fiancé who can’t sleep,” he pointed out.

Tim shrugged. “I kind of did,” he said gently. “Remember when we were first rooming together, during our first Ashes series? You’d get up and shadow bat at random hours of the night and it didn’t faze me.”

“You’re just patient with me,” Steve said gently.

“I’d be silly not to be,” Tim replied. “I love you. If that means a few bad nights here and there, it’s a privilege to be the one you spend them with.”

Steve perched up on his elbow just to meet Tim’s eyes. “How did I get so lucky, with you?” Steve asked softly.

“I ask myself the same question with you, every day,” Tim said, pecking Steve’s temple.

They shared a gentle silence for a few moments, before Tim seemed to think of something else.

“You know the good thing about nights like these?” Tim asked.

Steve shook his head, confused as to where Tim was going with this.

“You only have to do tonight once,” Tim replied. “Even if you don’t sleep. Even if you’re tired all day tomorrow. It doesn’t matter, because you will have gotten through it.”

Steve was touched. He snuggled closer into Tim’s side, grateful.

*

Steve woke up in the morning, not knowing what time it was, and not really caring. If he had woken up, that meant he had slept, which felt like something to be proud of.

Tim was right there, by his side. As he always was. As he always would be. And Steve was so grateful for him.


End file.
